


heartbroken, three days after.

by ladyballs_and_manboobs



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Chores, Heartbreak, Missing Scene, Multi, Pizza, figuring shit out but not all of it! not even close!, gay guru realness, slight canon divergence because i said so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24883459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyballs_and_manboobs/pseuds/ladyballs_and_manboobs
Summary: Martino was moping at Fili's when he got a call from Sana's brother. The night only got busier from there.
Relationships: Martino Rametta & Filippo Sava, Martino Rametta & Sana Allagui, Niccolò Fares/Martino Rametta
Comments: 29
Kudos: 79





	heartbroken, three days after.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tph/gifts).



Filippo’s kitchen was a mess.

Martino had visited the Savas many times before and had been offered countless coffees, glasses of wine, and all kinds of snacks. But only after “moving” to Filippo’s Martino was finally exposed to his questionable housekeeping habits. 

As it turned out, Fili was content with leaving dirty dishes in the sink until he ran out of clean ones in the cabinets. He wasn’t much of a cook, either, so it had been three nights of takeout for dinner in a row.

Paused in the doorway, Martino observed the cups, plates, and plastic containers scattered around the little kitchen. Then he sighed and walked to the sink, tugging up the sleeves of his hoodie before opening the tap. 

The two of them hadn’t yet discussed Martino’s new living arrangement in detail, but it seemed reasonable that he should start lending a hand.

It was a chance to fix something, no matter how mundane.

One of his sleeves slipped loose again and Martino cursed, pushing it back up with the cuff already wet. Strictly speaking, neither the hoodie nor the sweatpants were his. Filippo laid out some comfy clothes on Ele’s bed the night Martino arrived, and judging by the size, they had previously belonged to the tallest of his exes. That, or Edoardo Incanti left them behind.

The methodical scraping and rinsing were more comforting than Martino was ready to admit, least of all to Fili who’d call him a nervous housewife and make him clean the entire apartment. Martino might even agree to do it just to stop thinking about Nico for a while.

It had been three days since he saw Nico. Three days since Martino walked out of their apartment, tired of being lied to and so so scared that it was too late to stop Nico from slipping away. Three days since he showed up here, face blotchy and shoulders hunched, stumbling over the doorstep and into Fili’s hug before either of them said _hello_.

Martino had never wanted to break up with Nico. Never. Until Luca said it out loud in Spera’s office, it didn’t even register to Martino in those terms. What he wanted was Nico’s full trust — something he used to believe he had for the last year and a half. Then he watched Nico deny him the truth, again and again, because _apparently_ keeping Luai’s secrets was more important to him than keeping Marti. 

That first sleepless night in Eleonora’s room, the left side of his body too cold despite the fluffy blanket, he realized with a twist in his gut that he had no plan. Not just for the next few days, but (in case this was the end) for the rest of his life without Nico. For all his “enjoy the present” talk, Martino had never even imagined a version of the future where Nico wasn’t his to love and take care of. 

Three days went by, and Nico hadn’t called or texted or met him after school to explain himself.

Martino had no idea what to do next.

* * *

The mountain of dirty dishes was down to one mug and a handful of spoons when Martino’s phone started buzzing in the pocket of his hoodie. The unfamiliar number on the screen gave him pause before he tapped the green button.

“Hello?”

“Hi, am I talking to Martino?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Who’s this?”

“Rami.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t...”

“Rami, brother of Sana.”

“Oh.” Martino’s jaw clenched on instinct, but no twinge of pain came. The bruise was long gone.

Rami cleared his throat. “I got your number from Sana because I need to apologize.”

_Apologize?_

“I didn’t know you were Sana’s friend. And I didn’t know about you and Nico. I thought, hey, some piece of shit is shoving Luai into the wall, I’ll make him regret it. Ugh, sorry, didn’t mean to call you that... Wow, this is going well.” Rami muttered something in Arabic, clearly frustrated with himself. “Listen, Martino, I’m sorry for punching you like I did. And for, uh, spitting at you… I’m sorry for that as well. I should have tried talking to you first.”

The tension seeped out off Martino’s neck and shoulders, finally letting him exhale. “Apology accepted.”

“Cool,” Rami said, relieved but unsure how to steer the conversation from there.

Martino backed up a few steps and leaned against the countertop, inspecting the stripes on his socks. “Rami, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, shoot.”

“Did Sana bully you into calling me?” 

The ensuing pause made Martino wonder if he was in for another _vaffanculo_ from Sana’s brother _,_ over the phone this time. Finally, Rami chuckled. 

“No, not Sana. Luai insisted that I should try.”

Martino bit his tongue.

Rami’s voice wasn’t humorous when he spoke again. “For the record, this doesn’t mean I’m ok with what _you_ did out there. I don’t know what you thought was going on with Nico—”

“Doesn’t matter what I thought, I fucked up. Dragged a bunch of people into a stupid fight that didn’t solve shit.”

The memory of Luai’s arm around Nico’s shoulders still made Martino’s blood boil, no question about that. But he wasn’t proud of his behavior that night, and after Rami’s apology that feeling quickly curdled into shame.

“HONEY I’M HOME! AND I’VE GOT PIZZA!”

Filippo burst into the room with a pile of takeout boxes and froze at the sight of Martino, who was gesturing at him with one hand and pressing his phone to his chest with the other. _Nico?_ Filippo mouthed hopefully, and Marti rolled his eyes, putting the phone back to his ear. Trust his gay guru to interrupt a moment like this.

“Erm, what I mean is, I’m sorry for starting it.”

“Apology accepted.” Rami sounded a lot like Sana when he was smiling. “So, are we good?”

Martino shrugged, forgetting that Rami couldn’t see him. “I guess we are.”

“Glad to hear it. I won’t be keeping you, then. Bye, Martino.”

“Bye.”

Martino stared at the screen, trying to decide if he should save the number or not. When he finally raised his eyes, Filippo was right across from him, almost vibrating with curiosity.

“So? Have you puppies made up at last? Are you heading back?”

“Can’t wait to get rid of me, eh?” Banter was easy. Easier than wondering if Nico even wanted him back at this point. “It was Sana’s brother.”

“Ahh, Rami? You should have said hello from me!”

Martino narrowed his eyes. “And how do _you_ know Rami?”

“I let him crash in Ele’s room for one night. Or rather, I let Sana deposit him because the poor boy was drunk out of his wits.” Filippo gazed somewhere over Marti’s shoulder with a wistful expression. “So dreamy. The hottest guy that bed has ever seen.”

Martino refused to take the bait. “Fascinating. Anyway, he called to apologize for punching me.”

Filippo’s eyebrows shot up. “But this is wonderful, no? Your problems solve themselves! All you need now is a proper conversation with your boyfriend and I’m sure things will go back to normal.”

“I don’t know.” Martino huffed, grabbing the anchovies-free pizza and dragging his feet to the living room. 

“Wait, Martino, I changed my mind. If you keep my kitchen this nice and clean all the time, you’re welcome to sulk here forever!”

Martino didn’t dignify that with an answer.

* * *

The adrenaline of getting a call from Rami wore off fast, replaced by new, torturous suspicions. Did Rami answer the question truthfully? If so, what was Luai playing at? Trying to be the bigger man now that he snatched Nico away? Maybe he was with Nico right now, lounging on Marti’s chair and drinking coffee from Marti’s mug.

“Darling, you’re going insane.”

“You’re right. It’s too late for coffee. Of course he’s drinking something else from my mug.”

Filippo groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes, and he’s stroking his beard like the villain he is. We’ve been through this, Martino. You should stop imagining the worst possible scenario.”

Martino dropped another pizza crust in the box. “Maybe I do that so it hurts less when the thing finally happens.”

He wouldn’t confess something like that in front of his squad. But there was something about Fili, an aura of patient understanding, that had obliterated Martino’s brain-to-mouth filter since their very first conversation. 

That was the true reason Martino had ended up at Filippo’s place: inside these walls he could complain as much as he wanted, blurt out whatever was on his mind. No matter how petty or irrational he sounded, it would never be used against him.

Filippo’s fingers found Martino’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. “I know it’s tempting, but you have to fight it. What do we say to negative thoughts?” 

Not the mantra again. “Do I really have to repeat it?”

“Practice makes perfect. So, what do we say to negative thoughts?”

Martino heaved a sigh. “ _Sashay away_. I hate you for making me watch that drag queen show.” 

“You’re just mad that Alaska Thunderfuck didn’t win.” Filippo leaned down to pick Martino’s phone off the floor and pushed it into his hands. “Here. Call your boyfriend and tell him to come over. I’m going out tonight, you two will have plenty of time to talk.” 

Martino fixed Filippo with a glare. “No. I tried talking to him already, it led to nothing.” 

“Then get each other naked and talk later! Whatever works for you guys.” Filippo dodged the pillow hurled at him without batting an eyelid. “Can you at least call Sana and let her know that Rami repented? I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear it.”

Martino pursed his lips to the side, considering. “I’ll send her a message.” 

He missed Sana. Even if she had lied to him about Nico and Luai, he missed her. 

Martino opened the chat.

_hey, your brother called me to apologize and he was really nice._

Almost as soon as he pressed send, Sana started typing her reply.

* * *

“Do you need another blanket?”

“No, thank you.”

“A bigger pillow?”

“Fili, I’m _fine,_ don’t worry.”

“Ok, good night.”

“Night.”

Since Sana was staying in Eleonora’s room, Filippo had graciously yielded one side of his bed to Martino, who made a show of grumpily accepting the offer but was secretly relieved about not having to take the sofa. Martino wriggled this way and that to get comfortable, finally settling down with his back to Filippo and one hand under his cheek. 

Minute after minute passed in the dark, but the sleep he waited for just wouldn’t come. 

Instead, his mind was replaying the conversation with Sana. Seated on the floor of Fili’s living room with a bowl of ice-cream in her lap, Sana had let Martino into her world and shared with him the pain that he’d never even suspected. She had sounded so soft with her defenses down, so unlike the intimidatingly confident girl he was used to, it had felt like meeting Sana’s not-evil twin. 

Or maybe this had been the real Sana all along. Was she always like that at home? And around Nico those times he’d come by to hang with Rami? 

Martino sniffled unhappily, opening his eyes to stare at some junk on Fili’s shelf. 

He wanted to talk about these things with Nico. He wanted to know how Nico felt about religion, and if he had to answer a lot of ignorant questions about himself, and if he agreed with Martino’s takes on it all. He wanted to turn around and find Nico beside him, warm and toasty under the blanket, and to hear Nico’s low sleepy voice in the dark. 

He wanted things to be back to normal so badly he could scream. 

“Martino, are you awake?” Filippo’s whisper nearly made Martino jump out of his skin. “...I can hear you huffing like an angry hedgehog.”

“I’m not huffing.” Martino flopped onto his back, folding his hands on his chest. “I just can’t sleep, that’s all.”

He waited for Filippo to say something else, the silence in the room comfortable now that it was being shared. 

“Did Sana have any news?” 

Meaning: _did Sana say anything about Nico?_

Martino hummed in the negative. And then, just because it felt like he’d burst from keeping it inside, he added, “Doesn’t matter. Maybe I already know everything I need.” 

Filippo didn’t reply right away, dragging his palms down his face and dropping them back on the duvet with a deep sigh. “Do you remember how you came to me for advice about Nico? On the roof?”

Martino did remember. Best of all, he remembered Filippo saying that Martino had no chance against Nico’s long-term girlfriend. Why bring it up now?

“What, you want to make another offer to take me out? Dress me up and find me another guy to fall in love with?” Even whispering this made Martino feel like he wronged Nico. 

“No.” Filippo smacked Martino’s side with the back of his hand. “I just wanted to say that… I still don’t know all the gay guys in Rome. But I know Nico by now.” He paused. “Darling, I don’t think you understand how lucky you are. How rare it is to have what you two have, so early in your life.” 

Martino swallowed, unnerved by the emotion behind Filippo’s words, obvious even as he tried to keep his voice low. 

“The lack of trust is a problem, yes, and you need to figure it out eventually. But it’s not lack of love. Nico is going to choose you every time, if you let him.”

“You think?” Martino didn’t care how needy it sounded. He wanted to be convinced and he knew Filippo would not refuse him. 

“I have no doubt.” The pillow rustled as Filippo turned his head to look at Martino. “See, now you _do_ know everything you need.”

Martino’s throat went tight with all the feelings grappling for a way out. Gratitude won. “Thank you, Fili. Really.” 

“You’re welcome.” Filippo smiled, seemingly back to his cheeky self. “Now sleep. We’re out of biscuits AND milk so your job is to go and get some before Sana wakes up. My reputation as a host is on the line. Goodnight, Rose.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”

Next thing Martino knew, Filippo was snoring peacefully into his pillow, as if delivering that speech had cost him all of his energy. 

Martino closed his eyes, moving his lips without a sound. _Goodnight, Nico._

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by a Norah Jones song.
> 
> About 60% of my energy went into correcting the past tense omfg I'm never writing in it again. The other 40% went into hating this thing but I hope I made it make sense by the end. Let me know what you think.
> 
> P.S. Whoever thinks Nico doesn't love Marti enough, your mom's a ho.  
> 


End file.
